It only takes one drink to get me drunk, but I can't remember if it's the thirteenth or fourteenth.
Like partying in your best friend's basement circa. 1979- probably hasen't been cleaned since then either. Come to think of it, same applies to most of the regulars.
This bar is near the corner of Main Street and 7th Street. Its in Skid Row. Its point of interest is that it is in the title montage of the film written by Charles Bukowski, "Barfly". At that time, the neon sign was still working. I'm interested in restoring the sign. There is no "bartime" at this bar. The stay open right up to 2:00 AM, at which time everyone is pushed out the door.
If your scared of entering a dark dingy place that may or may not have undesirables loitering around the front, no problem. Once your in the front doors keep your back to the wall. I've never seen anything go down, but you may feel safe for your first few visits.
Cheap beer and great jazz...nice sacrafice. Impress your new girlfriend and show her how brave you are!
Come on down. Land of the free and home of the drunk.
PS-must get along well with Natives.
No windows, the same toothless drunks in there at noon as at midnight, gross mural on the exterior depicting creepy-faced buxom she-otters and sleazy he-otters merrily socializing with a pint or two, and to top it off, it's supremely dank and non-descriptly awful inside the bar.
Cheap liquor and beer are the specialties of the house.
Deep under the surface of Portland lies the famous Geno's. The only way in is through a black door and down a narrow flight of stairs. Once down there, there is no escape, no help, as your cell phone has no service. A band will be playing loud punk music, ideally. The beer is no frills. The mixed drinks are strong. The bartender is trashed.
The lady's room has seen some action. The green room has seen more.
The most famous true tale of Geno's is GG Allen took a shit on the stage, and Geno himself kicked him out.
drunken bums, street folk trying to sell you things (from sunglasses to electric beard trimmers), rowdy natives, $1.50 draft, live country bands every night, ladies and theyre johns...on hastings.
in fact, there is nothing classy about this place.
to quote the vancouver courier:
"It's 3 o'clock on a Wednesday afternoon and tables at the Grand Union Hotel on Hastings Street, three blocks west of Main, are almost full."
Kings is the home of the pickled brainered!
people fuck in the bathrooms, condoms on the floor put out cigarette's on the floor and maybe a on a mild nite you might get the chance to pick glass outta your head or ass! and a free titty dance from the barmaid who is drunk and missing a few teeth. check it out!
The exact address I am not sure about, it is one of the small side streets starting from "calle Assaonadors", very near "Calle Princesa". Just ask any "night-type" person you see walking around in that neighbourhood, and he or she will know. The club can only be recognized from the outside by its grey door on which you have to knock and then wait until they let you in. Read more »
The Boar House is so sleazy that you can even lose respectable friends by just mentioning that you have been there, or intend going.
They serve a range of imported beers, and some cheaper local Russian beers too. There is also a range of American-style food.
If you are very unlucky, an ex-pat will corner you (and this is the favourite ex-pat bar in Moscow) and bore you to death with one of two topics: (a) "Russian women - have you noticed how they have two legs and two arms? I am so sexually aroused by them OR (b) "I hate this ********* city, my company sent me here, I am earning a huge salary but blame my complete social inadequacy and friendless status on Moscow - rather than my natural inadequacies". It is worth moving away if cornered in this way. Read more »
Webers has got it all. An assortment of bizzare regulars some funny others just plain strange. A mens bathroom with no lock so when a person is in there 1 person bathroom the door opens to the rest of the bar. There are fruit flies the size of small dogs in the summer time all around the liqour bottles....their solution put a dirty bar towel over the tops....Great extra protein in every drink.
The Astoria Hotel may be a 'highlight' in a strip of sleazy bars, shops, residential hotels, and street corners: East Hastings.
At a convenient distance of the Carnegie Library (which is not where you borrow books) and Pigeon Park (which is not where you walk your dog), the Astoria Hotel and similar outfits in the neighbourhood provide hangouts for many people without regular places or lives to live.
A reliable source said that behind the empty bottles and so in the liquor store, there is a full-blown boxing club (I'm not sure if they follow Rule #1, so perhaps it should not be in this description?)
Although during the few days of my stay I had no time to check these out, the daily bus trip though guaranteed a wealth of choice.
Franks hides beneath a veneer of respectability ... a little more upmarket than the hooker-haven of The Den 100 yards away and a hop skip from Boys'n'Girls.
It is the starting point --the kicking off place-- to descend into the fleshpots of Sunlitun before the Government bulldozes them all in time for the Olympics.
It is possible to pick up the odd Yank or Russki English teacher but you are mercifully spared tourists.
Franks was our first -coming up on 20 years now - if for no other reason, it deserves its place in the sun ...great for Sunday morning Bloody Mary's!
Your quintessential hole-in-the-wall. Billed as the 'oldest bar in Granite City that hasn't burned down yet'. Located in the maw of a steel city, this bar has the unique distinction of having scum-of-the-earth clientele coupled with the presence of the usually yuppie-associated NTN Trivia. High scores rarely top 10,000 points.
Homeless fun-seekers and talking-to-themselves winos provide endless free entertainment, therefore no bands blemish the weekends. The owners of this establishment apparently came to the conclusion that having dollar longneck specials three weekdays in a row would boost attendance. And boy howdy it did. Read more »
Don not know the exact number, but it is behind a grey door ...
They have a jukebox on which you can select videoclips.
Open till late.
Post-scriptum: The above is rather an understatement. It is (or at least was ) the sleaziest bar I have ever been in, in Barcelona. It is a meeting point of all kinds of criminals: ranging from street thugs, to pimps, to east european maffia. It has quite a ominous atmosphere (think David Lynch), and while it's a good place when you still want more beer, it's not the place to make new friends (in whatever meaning of that phrase).